Support System
by AnimationNut
Summary: For a while, Lance had been Ash's only means of support, the only animal she could rely on. But now, as she deals with her ex-boyfriend's attempts to get her back, she realizes she's no longer alone. She has a group of protective performers surrounding her, the family she'd been lacking for far too long.


**I do not own Sing.**

* * *

 **Support System**

' _Ash, babe, talk to me.'_

' _I'm sorry, seriously.'_

' _Can we meet somewhere? Grab a bite to eat or something.'_

' _Come on, give me a chance babe.'_

The three dozen text messages clogging her inbox followed a similar pattern, all of them Lance pleading for her to talk to him. Ash grit her teeth together, agitation causing tension to build in her shoulders. Sprawled out across the plush red theater seats, Ash began the tedious process of deleting the messages, fingers flying over the touchscreen. Her guitar lay across her stomach as she waited for her stage time. Mike's crooning voice currently filled the auditorium, his soothing melody causing her to relax slightly. Annoying as the mouse could be, only a pathological liar would claim he had no talent.

 _Ugh, I can't do this everyday,_ she thought, watching as the messages flew into the trashcan icon with each tap. _It'll drive me crazy._

As irritating as the unwanted influx of texts from her ex-boyfriend were, she would have to tolerate them. She had contemplated blocking his number or getting a new one for herself. But she knew if Lance couldn't access her by phone, he would start hanging around her apartment or, even worse, Moon Theater.

Ash had sent him a lengthy message stating she was through a week ago, which was when Lance first started to pester her. It was clear he was ignoring her, which wasn't a surprise. He had always ignored her and it taken her far too long to realize it. Huffing out an annoyed breath, she hoped he would give up soon before she did something they would both regret.

" _Hey! April Laverne is a sorry excuse for a musician!"_

"Who's dissing my girl?" demanded Ash instantly, whipping her head to glare at the stage. Her heated defense of her favourite punk rocker fizzled out when she took in the concerned gazes of the others directed on her. "What?"

"Earth to Spikes," drawled Mike. "You gonna take your turn or keep wastin' our time?"

"We've been trying to get your attention," said Rosita gently. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine." Giving her head a sharp shake, Ash slung her guitar over her shoulder and got to her feet. She stuck her phone in the pocket of her skirt and climbed onto the stage, pausing to glower at Mike. "April is a creative genius."

"Compared to you? Absolutely," he returned with a smirk.

Rolling her eyes, she hooked up her guitar and began to play, fingers flying over the strings. The speakers behind her pulsed and the stage vibrated as the rhythm gained momentum. The comforting feel of her guitar and the beat of her music caused her to grin.

Noticing the teenager beginning to bob her head, Buster called out, "Heads up!"

"Aw, not again," groaned Mike.

Ash began dancing around the stage, shaking her head wildly as she lost herself in her rock and roll melody. Quills flew in every direction, causing everyone to take cover to avoid getting struck by the pointy needles. Mike raced to the edge of the stage, where his girlfriend normally staked out to observe the performances. He grabbed her hand and they both jumped to the floor, Nancy giggling as they rushed to take cover behind the seats.

"I fail to see how the possibility of impalement is funny," he muttered.

"Mr. Moon, I think we're going to need the duck tape again," spoke Meena, trying to hunker against the wall.

Buster raised his clipboard to intercept a couple of quills, glancing briefly at the new holes in some of the front row seats. "Most likely," he agreed, hardly bothered.

Ash soon finished her number and she caught her breath, lowering her guitar so it slung against her side. "How was that?"

"Awesome," declared Johnny, wrangling himself out from seat he had hunkered behind.

"Awful," countered Mike, grunting slightly when Nancy elbowed him in the side.

"That was great, hon," said Rosita with a smile.

"You make, like, the greatest dance music," said Gunter cheerfully.

"You're so cool," said Meena in awe.

Buster nodded. "Wonderful job, Ash." As the porcupine swelled with happiness he made a few notes on his clipboard and declared, "You all did amazing today, guys. We'll be ready for our next show in no time. Go home and get some rest."

The group started to bustle around, bidding their goodbyes and grabbing their items. Ash slipped her guitar into her case and hefted it into her arms. Her contented glow from the praise of her friends (or, in Mike's case, an insult that covered grudging respect) lasted the entire trip home. It immediately faded when she walked the last block to her apartment, where she spotted Lance sitting in front of the building.

She froze and backed away so that she was out of his line of sight. She pressed against the concrete siding of a convenience store, heart beating in her chest. It had been half a month since she had discovered Lance cheating on her, and a week of him attempting to get her to agree to meet face-to-face. There was no question that she was over him, but she certainly didn't want to see him, at least not on his terms.

The orange-red light of the setting sun washing over her, Ash had an internal struggle. She could walk right past Lance without saying a word, but she knew that would never happen. He wouldn't let her pass until he felt he had his say.

Screwing her eyes shut and clenching the handle of her guitar case in anger, she stormed down the sidewalk. As she retraced her steps to the train station, her mind whirled with possible places where she could spend the night.

…

"Good morning, Mr. Moon!"

"Gooood morning, Miss Crawley," said Buster, swinging around in his chair to properly greet her. He accepted the mug of coffee she held out to him, a fond smile curling across his face when he discovered it half-empty.

"How do you think Ash would like her coffee?" Miss Crawley asked. "Or maybe she would prefer orange juice."

Buster's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Pardon?"

"She's sleeping in her rehearsal room," informed Miss Crawley. "I thought she might like something to drink when she wakes."

"Is she okay?" he asked worriedly, for this was an occurrence that had never happened before.

"She's snoring, so I didn't want to wake her up."

"Let's stick with orange juice," spoke Buster hastily, hurriedly getting up and departing from his office.

He went down the stairs and immediately spotted Ash through the glass panes of the rehearsal spaces. She was splayed out across the hardwood floor, using her guitar case as a pillow. Buster was quick to get by her side, shaking her shoulder gently.

"Hey, Ash."

With a groggy grumble the teenager opened her eyes. "Wassamatter?" she yawned, sitting up and rubbing at her face.

"Is everything alright?" asked Buster, eyeing the girl intently. "Did you spend the night here?"

Ash blinked for a moment, suddenly recalling where she was. Smoothing back her ruffled quills, she said quietly, "Sorry, I meant to leave early but I guess I slept in."

"No, no, it's fine," said Buster quickly. "You're always welcome here. Did something happen?"

Ash thought of Lance and fought back a grimace. "It's all good, it's just…something came up and I needed to crash here for a night."

Not at all satisfied with her vague response, Buster crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you in any trouble?"

"No! Gosh, no." Ash stood up, brushing out the wrinkles in her clothes. Seeing that she wasn't doing a very good job of convincing Buster she wasn't in any sort of serious situation, she let out a sigh of resignation. "It's just Lance, okay? He keeps trying to get me to talk to him and he's not taking no for an answer. He was waiting outside my apartment last night and I didn't feel like having a conversation with him, so I came here."

Buster's lips sharpened into a frown. "Is he harassing you?"

"No, he's just being stubborn and persistent." Ash shrugged. "It's frustrating, that's all. I know I probably should just talk with him and get it over with."

"You don't owe him anything," said Buster firmly. "He doesn't have the right to force you into a conversation you're not ready for."

Ash stared in surprise for a moment before smiling sincerely. "Yeah. I know."

"Good morning, Ash!" Miss Crawley shuffled into the room, holding a glass of orange juice and a granola bar. "Here you are."

"Oh, thanks, you didn't have to," said Ash, touched. She accepted the breakfast items and squinted at the granola, which had a bite taken out of it.

Buster grinned. "That's normal. You get used to it."

"Hey, it's still good." Ash took a bite of the apple crumble granola. "Thank you, Miss Crawley."

"Of course, dear." She patted the teen's arm affectionately and went to begin her tasks for the day.

"The others should arrive soon. You can get in some extra practice time on the stage, if you want," offered Buster.

Ash shook her head. "I think I'm going to work on some lyrics."

"I can't wait to hear them," he said. He paused and then added, "You will tell us if you need help speaking with Lance."

It was more of an order than a question, and Ash felt the lingering shreds of stress over her life drama disappearing over his support and concern. "Yeah, I will. Thanks, Moon."

"Anytime." Buster gave her a warm smile before departing.

Ash dug out her notebook, her mood light and content, and started to craft another song as she waited for her friends to arrive.

…

As Rosita and Gunter danced across the stage, salsa music thumping in the background, Ash felt her phone buzz insistently in her skirt. Lips twisting into a scowl, she dug the slim device free from her pocket, figuring that maybe if she gave in and spoke with Lance over the phone, he would see she was serious and leave her alone.

She didn't get the chance, for Mike jumped nimbly onto her knee and accepted the call on her behalf. _"Ash?"_ Lance's hopeful voice flowed from the speakers.

"Listen, you grunge band poser. You're pathetic," the mouse said sharply. "You're makin' a fool of yourself, beggin' to be taken back by a girl who clearly wants nothin' to do with you. Get lost." He hung up as quickly as he had answered and glared up at the stunned porcupine. "Have some backbone."

"You think I haven't told him to leave me alone?" snapped Ash, his insult jolting her back to reality. "Not all of us like to be rude."

Mike snorted. "You clearly aren't talking about yourself, because you have no problem disrespecting your elders."

"Like you can talk," sneered Ash. She shoved her phone back into her pocket and could not help but smirk. "You didn't need to jump to my defense, Shorty."

"Who said I did?" returned Mike dismissively. "Guys like that put the male species to shame. Gotta be put in their place."

"Yo, Mike, you're up!" called Eddie from the stage, switching tracks on the music player. "You ready?"

"What kind of a question is that?" he scoffed. Casting a wink at his girlfriend, he said, "This one's for you, baby," before striding towards the stage.

Ash rested her chin against her paw, shifting a quick glance between Nancy, who sat on the arm of her theater chair, and Mike. She could not help but detect the affection and sincerity of his pet name for Nancy. It made her see the difference in how Lance used to refer to her as 'babe', always spoken in a lazy, sometimes bored drawl, without much meaning behind it.

"Don't worry sugar," spoke Nancy, distracting Ash from her thoughts. She gave the porcupine an encouraging smile. "He'll give up eventually. And if he doesn't, just give him a good kick where it really hurts. He'll leave you alone in a heartbeat."

Ash could not help but laugh. "I won't pretend I'm not tempted, but I'll leave that as the last course of action."

The rehearsals eventually ended and Ash packed away her guitar. When she straightened, it was to see Johnny, Meena and Rosita hovering near her. "What's up?"

"You want me to bring you home?" offered Johnny.

"You could spend the night at my place," added Meena.

"Or I could drive you home," spoke Rosita.

Ash held out her hands, eyes widening slightly. "Whoa, it's okay, really. I appreciate the concern, but I'm sure I can handle it."

Rosita frowned. "Are you sure? Lance might be waiting for you. Are you ready to speak with him?"

"Well…no," she admitted. "Not yet. But Johnny, you visit your dad every day after practice. He'll get worried if you don't show up."

"He'll understand," he assured. "It's no problem."

"Don't worry, really. I'll figure it out."

"My family wouldn't mind at all if you slept over," assured Meena.

"I know, but I really don't want to intrude," insisted Ash. "It's short notice."

Rosita clapped her hands and gave a nod. "It's settled then," she said determinedly. "I can give you a lift. Or you could stay at my house."

Ash floundered for a minute, realizing that her friends were not going to let her go home by herself. Swallowing past the lump of emotion that suddenly grew in her throat, she said, "If you don't mind, Rosita, I'd like a ride home. Thank you, Meena and Johnny, for your offers."

"Of course," said Johnny, relieved that the girl would not have to deal with Lance by herself. "Call if you need anything, yeah?"

"If you ever need to spend the night away from your apartment, just let me know," said Meena earnestly.

"Be safe," Rosita said to the two teens, giving them each a hug. Ash gave them both a fist-bump and followed Rosita towards the theater doors. "Norman should be here soon," the pig muttered, peering down the street. At seeing a familiar blue van cruising towards her, she said brightly, "Oh, there he is!"

When the vehicle came to a stop at the curb, Ash gaped at the multiple piglets that pressed their faces against the windows. "Rosita, I really can't ask you to go out of your way like this—"

"You didn't ask. I'm insisting," said Rosita simply, giving Ash an affectionate pat on the cheek. She threw open the passenger-side door and blew a kiss to her rambunctious children. "Norman, we're going to give Ash a ride home."

"If that's okay," interjected Ash quickly.

Norman nodded. "No problem."

Ash managed to maneuver herself into a seat, crowded on either side by piglets who eagerly pulled on her quills and poked at her guitar case. Rosita twisted around and chided, "Don't bother our guest, kids."

"It's fine," assured Ash.

For the ride to her apartment, she fielded questions from the energetic children and sang along with them to the pop songs that played on the radio. Her good mood quickly faltered when they finally arrived in front of her building, where Lance was once again camped out.

"Ooh, is that your boyfriend?" asked Casper, pulling on her paw.

"Er, he used to be. Not anymore."

Zoe craned to get a good look out the window. "How come?"

"That's rude, Zoe," Rosita scolded lightly.

"Sorry…"

Norman glanced at Ash's apprehensive expression and then at his wife, who was regarding Lance with a soft, disapproving scowl. Unbuckling his seatbelt, Norman opened up his door. "I'll walk you in, Ash."

Ash wanted to protest, but seeing Lance made her stomach twist, and she hated how he was forcing her into this state of discomfort. "Thanks," she said quietly.

Rosita gave her husband's hand a loving, grateful squeeze. "Ash, you call if you need anything," she directed. "Night or day."

Giving a nod, Ash followed Norman out of the car and towards the front doors. When Lance saw her, his face lit up and he jumped to his feet. "Ash, babe—"

"Not now Lance," she interrupted, glaring at the ground. "I'll talk to you when I'm ready. Please leave me alone."

"Come on," Lance pressed. He started towards her, but paused when Norman stepped smoothly between him and Ash.

"I believe she said she doesn't want to talk to you right now," Norman said calmly, though there was an undercurrent of warning.

Lips pursing into a thin line, Lance stared at Ash, who avoided his gaze. He didn't want to let her leave, not when this was the first time he'd gotten this close to her in over a week. But Norman was staring at him, and he could see Rosita watching intently from the car. As stubborn as he was, he knew when not to push his luck.

"I'll talk to you later," he promised, turning on his heel and walking off.

Ash let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding. "He never knows when to give up," she muttered, digging around for her key. She approached the door and turned to Norman, saying, "Thank you. I really appreciate this."

"You have Rosita's number?"

"Yeah."

"If he gives you any trouble, let her know."

Ash rubbed the back of her neck. "I don't think he will. But if it turns into something I can't handle, I'll call her. Thanks again."

She waved to Norman, Rosita and the piglets and entered her building. When she arrived into her apartment she set her guitar case down and lowered herself down on the couch. For a while she sat in silence, revelling in the realization that she had gone from being alone to having a group of animals to depend on for love and support.

…

When her phone buzzed in her pocket the next day, Ash's first instinct was to ignore it. She'd been distracted enough during practice for their next show, and today Nana Noodleman was watching their progress. As everyone's eyes were trained on Johnny, his fingers moving across the piano keys as he sang, Ash suddenly had a gut feeling that she ought to check the text.

Sinking lower in her theater chair, she slipped out her phone and peered at the screen. Her heart jumped into her throat as she read the message from Lance.

' _I'm coming to see you. I'll be at the theater in five minutes.'_

She was initially shocked that he would be so bold to come to her workplace, but realized he didn't intend to barge in. He wouldn't have sent the text warning her ahead of time, which meant he had no desire to speak with her in front of all her friends. He honestly didn't want to cause a scene. He just wanted to talk.

She contemplated this, brow furrowed. If she were to be truthful, she wouldn't speak to Lance at all if given the option. He had betrayed her and there was no excuse or explanation he could give that would change that. But it also wasn't healthy to leave their feelings simmering beneath the surface, ignored and untouched. She had thrown him out and they hadn't properly spoken since then.

Taking a breath, she quietly stood and inched her way down the aisle, trying not to disturb Johnny's performance. A hoof landed on her arm, causing her to pause. Eddie looked at her with concern and asked, "Lance again?"

"Yeah," she whispered. "I'm just going to step outside for a second."

"Is everything okay?"

"Totally. If I'm not in time for my cue, let Meena go ahead. I'll be back."

She hurried out of the theater and when she stepped outside, she blinked against the sunlight. When her vision cleared it was to see Lance crossing the street, a grin on his features when he saw her. Steeling herself, Ash waited until he stopped in front of her.

"You've been annoying me for a week straight. You've staked out _my_ apartment, come to _my_ job, even after I said I would talk to you when _I_ was ready. Now we're here, and instead of kicking you where it hurts like I should, I'll give you five minutes to give me your speech."

Raising his paws in a placating manner, Lance said, "I know, I know. I'm sorry, okay? I'm stupid."

"You are."

"I should have supported you from the beginning."

"You should have."

"You're amazing. You really can write songs."

Ash gave a slow nod. "Did you actually _listen_ to what Set It All Free was about?"

"Yeah," Lance admitted reluctantly. "I did. I'm really sorry. Can you give me a second chance?"

"No, I can't, and frankly I don't want to," said Ash calmly. "Lance, you can't even admit that you were holding me back. You like to be in control—lead vocals, lead guitarist, the only song writer. It's who you are. I'm not going to be restrained anymore. The second I realized that is the second our relationship fell apart."

"We could figure it out," insisted Lance. "Think of all the gigs we could get together."

"You mean all the gigs _you_ could get with me," countered Ash. "Lance, music and performing isn't just a gig or a fad to me. It's my life, it's who I am, and I'm not doing it just for money." She then set her hands on her hips and regarded him knowingly. "How's Becky?"

"Fine," answered Lance automatically. "I mean—uh."

"Yeah, I thought as much," said Ash, and instead of disappointment and heartbreak coursing through her, it was amusement. "I think you and her are better suited for each other."

"We had a good thing going," Lance said quietly.

"We did," Ash agreed. "You ruined it. But you know, it might just be the best thing that's ever happened to me. For that, I thank you. Without you I've found my place here."

Lance arched an eyebrow dubiously. "Seriously? You want to stick around this dump?"

"It's not a dump," said Ash fiercely. "It's gorgeous, and the animals I perform with have supported me far more in the past month than you have in the two years we dated. I want to be with them for as long as they'll have me. I'm missing rehearsal right now, actually, so I need to go. I moved on, and I'm happy. I think if you let yourself move on, you'll find you'll be happier too. Bye, Lance."

She turned on her heel to go and Lance shot forwards, wrapping his paw around her wrist. "Wait—"

He didn't get a chance to finish and Ash didn't get a chance to free herself. The theater doors burst open and ten figures spilled out into the afternoon sunshine. Buster levelled Lance with a serious stare and said quietly, "You've had your say and she's had hers. It's time for you to go and leave her alone."

"Should I use the broom on him?" Miss Crawley asked, waving the cleaning implement threateningly.

Nana regarded Lance with a disdainful expression. "This is private property, young man. Leave at once or I will call the authorities."

Releasing Ash, Lance backed away, seeming to shrink at the group glowering at him. He mumbled an apology and rushed off, disappearing down the street. Rosita moved forwards and clasped Ash's paw, inspecting it. "Did he hurt you, hon?"

"No," said Ash quickly. "He's not that kind of guy." A light blush spread across her cheeks and she asked, "How long have you been watching?"

"Um…for most of your talk," said Meena, ears folding in to cover her face. "Are you mad?"

"We were just super worried the dinkleschplatt might try something," Gunter explained.

"Sorry," said Eddie, rubbing the back of his neck. "You looked pretty frazzled as you were leaving. I had to say something."

"Shoot." Ash glanced at Johnny apologetically. "I messed up your act, didn't I?"

"No, you didn't," he assured quickly. "I finished just as you left. It wouldn't have mattered if you did, anyway. So long as you're okay."

"Didn't hear that love junk she was spewing?" scoffed Mike. "She's clearly lost her mind."

Rolling her eyes briefly, for he had broken out in a string of insults the instant Lance laid his paws on Ash, Nancy said proudly, "Good job, sugar. You hit him where he hurts the most—his pride."

"Well, that was quite the intermission," said Buster with a smile. "Let's get back to it. You're up, Ash."

"Got it!" As they all started to file into the theater, Ash fell into step next to Nana and said, "I'm sorry for wasting your time, Miss Noodleman."

"Drama is as inevitable in life as it is in theater," returned Nana. "It is that boy who should be far sorrier than he is. He could've learned quite a bit of what it means to be a true artist from you."

A compliment from Nana Noodleman was as rare as a blue moon and Ash brightened. The esteemed and elegant actress hid a smile behind her fan as the teen cheerfully thanked her, skipping head towards the front of the group. Before she passed by Buster, the koala extended his arm to pause her.

"For the record, you might as well decorate your rehearsal space to your style, because I don't expect you or the others to leave anytime soon."

With a wide grin, delight and affection bubbling within her, Ash said, "You couldn't get rid of me even if you tried."

…

Two weeks later, when Ash arrived at her apartment to see a colourful bouquet of flowers awaiting on her doorstep, she was perplexed. She read the card attached to the floral arrangement, eyebrows flying upwards when she discovered it was from Lance.

 _You're right. About everything. I'm sorry. Think we could maybe be friends again, one day?_

She couldn't help the smile or the amused laugh that escaped her. When they had been dating, Lance had never once gotten her anything romantic as flowers. Not even when they fought. And now here were the flowers she'd secretly wished for, despite not being the romantic type. It was not an offering of romance, but of friendship and apology.

"I guess you can learn," she mused aloud.

She set the flowers on her coffee table and fished out her phone. There hadn't been a single phone call or message from Lance in fourteen days. She typed out a text and sent it off.

' _Yes. We can be friends.'_

Ash didn't regret the time she spent with Lance, nor did she want to forget about it. It was crucial in helping to shape who she was, as an animal and as an artist. A relationship was no longer in the cards, but she could work with friendship. He was no longer her sole companion in life.

She was lucky enough to find the ones who would be her lifelong friends, her mentors and her greatest supporters. She had finally found the family she'd been lacking, and she couldn't wait to spend the coming days, months and years with them.


End file.
